Male Model Accused Me, but I’m Blind

I had just moved in when the young male model across the hall called the police. He claimed I had fallen in love with him, turned bitter when he rejected me, and had been harassing him ever since—banging on his door, threatening him, and even trying to sexually coerce him.

When the police showed up, he pointed right at me and started yelling, “Pervert! You knock on my door every night! You even use binoculars to spy on me, and you’ve been posting my photos online!

“I’ve seen you! Standing by your window, staring at me, always trying to get close. It’s disgusting!”

The neighbors gathered around, whispering and pointing at me. Someone even shoved me, calling me shameless.

“Women like this are trash.”

“She looks normal. Who would've thought she's a creep?”

Under everyone’s accusations, I slowly took off my sunglasses, revealing the hollow sockets where my eyes should be. “Officer, how exactly is a blind person supposed to peep at anyone?”

My voice was soft, but it cut through the noisy room like a sharp spike.

The neighbors who had been shoving and shouting froze for a moment. The middle-aged woman leading the charge left her hand hanging awkwardly in the air, forgetting to bring it down.

Every gaze locked on my face. Or rather, on the two hollow, empty sockets where my eyes should have been. They were the permanent scars a fire had left me three years ago.

The officer in charge, a seasoned cop with the surname Wright, paused for a moment before frowning. His voice dripped with impatience. “Cut the act. If you’re really blind, a hospital can confirm it.”

Across the hall, Curtis Lowe's voice faltered for a split second before rising again. “She’s lying! She’s just trying to get out of this! How could she be blind? Every night, she stands by the window, watching me!”

Halfway through his rant, his eyes landed on my empty sockets. His voice trembled, and his words lost their edge. “That’s disgusting! Seriously disgusting!”

His shout stirred the crowd again.

“Exactly! She’s faking it!”

“People these days will do anything to escape punishment. No lie is too low!”

A young woman, filled with righteous anger, even lunged forward, trying to grab my collar. “You’re absolutely vile!”

Officer Wright quickly blocked her. “Hey! Nobody moves! Let the police handle this!”

He turned back to me. The suspicion and disgust in his eyes were completely unchanged. “You’re coming with us.”

I did not resist. I calmly held out my hands. Cold metal snapped around my wrists. Two young officers escorted me, one on each side, toward the elevator. Behind me, the neighbors’ curses blurred into a chaotic roar.

“Scum of society!”

“Get out of our building!”

“Hope you rot in prison!”

I could not see their expressions. However, I could clearly hear the satisfaction in their voices—the kind that came from grinding someone into the dirt.

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing off the noise outside.

One of the younger officers, probably new, could not help but ask in a low voice,

“Are you… really blind?”

I curled my lips into a faint, humorless smile but said nothing.

The other officer patted his shoulder, signaling him to keep quiet.

Yet I already knew. In their minds, the scales had tipped completely toward that tearful young man.

After all, he was a handsome male model and still a student. I was a woman who lived alone and always wore sunglasses. In their eyes, I was strange.

To them, it was already decided who the victim was and who the offender was.